Tamara de Lempicka Two FriendsTamara de Lempicka The Green TurbanTamara de Lempicka Summer
walked back to the door.
'Sorry to have bothered you,' he said, and left.
Zorgo's patient watched him go with interest.
'Didn't he have a crossbow?' he said. 'Bit odd, going after interesting rare butterflies with a crossbow.'
Zorgo readjusted the fit of the grid on his patient's bald head.
'Dunno,' he said, 'I , and laughed.
'Pardon?'
1S6
'Well, I mean, the ground is . . . so much . . . closer . . .'
She felt a pit opening wider with every word. The noise level had suddenly dropped again.
'Er,' said Carrot, staring fixedly at her. 'How can I put thissuppose it stops them creating all these damn thunderstorms.' He picked up the mallet again. 'Now, what were we going for today? Decisiveness, yes?''Yes. Well, no. Maybe.''Right.' Zorgo took aim. 'This,' he said with absolute truth, 'won't hurt a bit.' It was more than just a delicatessen. It was a sort of dwarf community centre and meeting place. The babble of voices stopped when Angua entered, bending almost double, but started up again with slightly more volume and a few laughs when Carrot followed. He waved cheerfully at the other customers.Then he carefully removed two chairs. It was just possible to sit upright if you sat on the floor.'Very . . . nice,' said Angua. 'Ethnic.''I come in here quite a lot,' said Carrot. 'The food's good and, of course, it pays to keep your ear to the ground.''That'd certainly be easy here,' said Angua
Tuesday, April 28, 2009
Monday, April 27, 2009
Juan Gris Violin and Glass
Juan Gris Violin and GlassJuan Gris Violin and CheckerboardJuan Gris Man in the Cafe
felt something inside him bubbling over. Something was brushing the tips of his corroded but nevertheless still-active instincts, trying to draw attention to itself. He had to be on the move. It was all that Carrot could do to keep up.
There were trainee Assassins in the streets around the Guild, still sweeping up debris.
Assassins in daylight,' snarled Vimes. 'I'm amazed they don't turn to dust.'
'That's vampires, sir,' said Carrot.
'Hah! You're right. Assassins and licensed thieves and bloody vampires! You know, this was a great old city once, lad.'
Unconsciously, they fell into step . . . proceeding.
'When we had kings, I think.'
Vimes paused. There's something in the air in this city, he thought. If the Creator had said, 'Let there be light' in Ankh-Morpork, he'd have got no further because of all the people saying 'What colour?'
'The supreme ruler, OK,' he said, starting to stroll forward again.
'OK.'
'But that's not right, see? One man with the power of life and death.'
'But if he's a good man—' Carrot began., sir?''Kings? Kings? Hell, no!'A couple of Assassins looked around in surprise.'I'll tell you,' said Vimes. A monarch's an absolute ruler, right? The head honcho—''Unless he's a queen,' said Carrot.Vimes glared at him, and then nodded.'OK, or the head honchette—''No, that'd only apply if she was a young woman. Queens tend to be older. She'd have to be a . . . a honcharina? No, that's for very young princesses. No. Um. A honchesa
felt something inside him bubbling over. Something was brushing the tips of his corroded but nevertheless still-active instincts, trying to draw attention to itself. He had to be on the move. It was all that Carrot could do to keep up.
There were trainee Assassins in the streets around the Guild, still sweeping up debris.
Assassins in daylight,' snarled Vimes. 'I'm amazed they don't turn to dust.'
'That's vampires, sir,' said Carrot.
'Hah! You're right. Assassins and licensed thieves and bloody vampires! You know, this was a great old city once, lad.'
Unconsciously, they fell into step . . . proceeding.
'When we had kings, I think.'
Vimes paused. There's something in the air in this city, he thought. If the Creator had said, 'Let there be light' in Ankh-Morpork, he'd have got no further because of all the people saying 'What colour?'
'The supreme ruler, OK,' he said, starting to stroll forward again.
'OK.'
'But that's not right, see? One man with the power of life and death.'
'But if he's a good man—' Carrot began., sir?''Kings? Kings? Hell, no!'A couple of Assassins looked around in surprise.'I'll tell you,' said Vimes. A monarch's an absolute ruler, right? The head honcho—''Unless he's a queen,' said Carrot.Vimes glared at him, and then nodded.'OK, or the head honchette—''No, that'd only apply if she was a young woman. Queens tend to be older. She'd have to be a . . . a honcharina? No, that's for very young princesses. No. Um. A honchesa
Sunday, April 26, 2009
John William Waterhouse Hylas and the Nymphs
John William Waterhouse Hylas and the NymphsJohn William Waterhouse Waterhouse OpheliaLeonardo da Vinci Portrait of Ginevra BenciLeonardo da Vinci The Madonna of the Carnation
I'm sure we wish him All the Best, he taught me All I Know apart, from the things I taught myself. We are clubbing together to get him a Surprise Present, I thought one of those new Watches that don't need demons to make them go and we could inscribe on the back something like "A Watch from, your Old Freinds in the Watch", this is a pune or Play on Words. Various elderly female relatives cried. But Edward d'Eath didn't cry, for three reasons. He was the eldest son, the thirty-seventh Lord d'Eath, and it was Not Done for a d'Eath to cry; he was – just, the diploma still had the crackle in it – an Assassin, and Assassins didn't cry at a death, otherwise they'd never be stopping; and he was angry. In fact, he was enraged.We do not know who will be the new Captain, Sgt Colon says he will Resign if it's him, Cpl Nobbs—' Carrot stared out of the window again. His big honest forehead wrinkled with effort as he tried to think of something positive to say about Corporal Nobbs. '—is more suited in his current Roll, and I have not been in the Watch long enough. So we shall just have to wait and See—' It began, as many things do, with a death. And a burial, on a spring morning, with mist on the ground so thick that it poured into the grave and the coffin was lowered into cloud.A small greyish mongrel, host to so many assorted doggy diseases that it was surrounded by a cloud of dust, watched impassively from the mound of earth.
I'm sure we wish him All the Best, he taught me All I Know apart, from the things I taught myself. We are clubbing together to get him a Surprise Present, I thought one of those new Watches that don't need demons to make them go and we could inscribe on the back something like "A Watch from, your Old Freinds in the Watch", this is a pune or Play on Words. Various elderly female relatives cried. But Edward d'Eath didn't cry, for three reasons. He was the eldest son, the thirty-seventh Lord d'Eath, and it was Not Done for a d'Eath to cry; he was – just, the diploma still had the crackle in it – an Assassin, and Assassins didn't cry at a death, otherwise they'd never be stopping; and he was angry. In fact, he was enraged.We do not know who will be the new Captain, Sgt Colon says he will Resign if it's him, Cpl Nobbs—' Carrot stared out of the window again. His big honest forehead wrinkled with effort as he tried to think of something positive to say about Corporal Nobbs. '—is more suited in his current Roll, and I have not been in the Watch long enough. So we shall just have to wait and See—' It began, as many things do, with a death. And a burial, on a spring morning, with mist on the ground so thick that it poured into the grave and the coffin was lowered into cloud.A small greyish mongrel, host to so many assorted doggy diseases that it was surrounded by a cloud of dust, watched impassively from the mound of earth.
Friday, April 24, 2009
Jean Francois Millet The sower
Jean Francois Millet The sowerJean Francois Millet SpringJean Francois Millet Man with a hoeLorenzo Lotto Venus and Cupid
goodness,” Ponder added. “Knocked me cold.
Otherwise I’d be like the others.”
A foreboding of a conversation to come swept over Magrat.
“What others?” she snapped.
“Are you alone?”
“What others?”
“Have you found a second wizard propped against a tree like a ladder. He had a huge smile creasing his face.
“The Bursar,” said Ponder. “I think we may have over-done the dried frog pills a bit.” He any idea what’s been happening?”Magrat thought about the castle, and the town.“I might be able to hazard a guess,” she said.Ponder shook his head.“It’s worse than that,” he said.“What others?” said Magrat.“I think there’s definitely been a cross-continuum break-through, and I’m sure there’s a difference in energy levels.”“But what others?” Magrat insisted.Ponder Stibbons glanced nervously at the surrounding forest.“Let’s get off the path. There’s a lot more elves back there.”Ponder disappeared into the undergrowth. Magrat followed him, and
goodness,” Ponder added. “Knocked me cold.
Otherwise I’d be like the others.”
A foreboding of a conversation to come swept over Magrat.
“What others?” she snapped.
“Are you alone?”
“What others?”
“Have you found a second wizard propped against a tree like a ladder. He had a huge smile creasing his face.
“The Bursar,” said Ponder. “I think we may have over-done the dried frog pills a bit.” He any idea what’s been happening?”Magrat thought about the castle, and the town.“I might be able to hazard a guess,” she said.Ponder shook his head.“It’s worse than that,” he said.“What others?” said Magrat.“I think there’s definitely been a cross-continuum break-through, and I’m sure there’s a difference in energy levels.”“But what others?” Magrat insisted.Ponder Stibbons glanced nervously at the surrounding forest.“Let’s get off the path. There’s a lot more elves back there.”Ponder disappeared into the undergrowth. Magrat followed him, and
Thursday, April 23, 2009
Thomas Kinkade Perseverance
Thomas Kinkade Perseverance
with spikes. She had knee pads with spikes on, and spikes on her sandals, and a rather short skirt in the fashionable tartan and blood motif. One hand rested nonchalantly on a double-headed battle axe with a spike on it, the other caressed the hand of a captured enemy warrior. The rest of the captured enemy warrior was hanging from various pine trees in the back-ground. Also in the picture was Spike, her favorite war pony, of the now extinct Lancre hill breed which was the same general shape and disposition as a barrel of gunpow-der, and her war chariot, which picked up the popular spiky
Cao Yong Day of LoveCao Yong cao yong Red UmbrellaDiego Rivera View of Toledo
helmet with wings and a spike on it and a mass of black hair plaited into dreadlocks with blood as a setting lotion. She was heavily made-up in the woad-and-blood-and-spirals school of barbarian cosmetics. She had a 42 D-cup breastplate and shoulder pads theme. It had wheels you could shave with.
Magrat stared.
They’d never mentioned this.
They’d told her about tapestries, and embroidery, and farthingales, and how to shake hands with lords. They’d never told her about spikes.
There was a sound at the end of the gallery, from back the way she’d come. She grabbed her skirts and ran.
There were footsteps behind her, and laughter.
with spikes. She had knee pads with spikes on, and spikes on her sandals, and a rather short skirt in the fashionable tartan and blood motif. One hand rested nonchalantly on a double-headed battle axe with a spike on it, the other caressed the hand of a captured enemy warrior. The rest of the captured enemy warrior was hanging from various pine trees in the back-ground. Also in the picture was Spike, her favorite war pony, of the now extinct Lancre hill breed which was the same general shape and disposition as a barrel of gunpow-der, and her war chariot, which picked up the popular spiky
Cao Yong Day of LoveCao Yong cao yong Red UmbrellaDiego Rivera View of Toledo
helmet with wings and a spike on it and a mass of black hair plaited into dreadlocks with blood as a setting lotion. She was heavily made-up in the woad-and-blood-and-spirals school of barbarian cosmetics. She had a 42 D-cup breastplate and shoulder pads theme. It had wheels you could shave with.
Magrat stared.
They’d never mentioned this.
They’d told her about tapestries, and embroidery, and farthingales, and how to shake hands with lords. They’d never told her about spikes.
There was a sound at the end of the gallery, from back the way she’d come. She grabbed her skirts and ran.
There were footsteps behind her, and laughter.
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
Paul Klee Heroic Roses
Paul Klee Heroic RosesPaul Klee HermitageRene Magritte The Dangerous LiaisonRene Magritte Donna
underneath a helmet, so it’s probably official and will get
l The Lancratians did not consider geography to be a very original science.
156
LORDS ftttO LftQ/£6
into serious trouble if it eats people. Nothing to worry about.”
The Bursar giggled, because he was on the upcurve of whatever switchback his mind was currently riding.
The troll appeared at the coach window.
“Afternoon, your lordships,” it said. “Customs inspection.”
“I don’t think we have any,” babbled the Bursar happily.
“I mean, we Doodle” in a crowded bar in Atlanta.
Even these people would consider it tactless to mention the word “billygoat” to a troll.
The troll’s expression changed very slowly, like a glacier eroding half a mountain. Ponder tried to get under the seat.
“So we’ll just trit-trot along, shall we?” said the Bursar, his voice by now slightly muffled.
“He doesn’t mean it,” said the Archchancellor quickly.
“It’s the dried frog talking.”used to have a tradition of rolling boiled eggsdownhill on Soul Cake Tuesday, but—““I means,” said the troll, “do you have any beer, spirits, wines, liquors, hallucinogenic herbage, or books of a lewd or licentious nature?”Ridcully pulled the Bursar back from the window.“No,” he said.“No?”“No.”“Sure?”“Yes.”“Would you like some?”“We haven’t even got,” said the Bursar, despite Ridcully’s efforts to sit on his head, “any billygoats.”There are some people that would whistle “Yankee
underneath a helmet, so it’s probably official and will get
l The Lancratians did not consider geography to be a very original science.
156
LORDS ftttO LftQ/£6
into serious trouble if it eats people. Nothing to worry about.”
The Bursar giggled, because he was on the upcurve of whatever switchback his mind was currently riding.
The troll appeared at the coach window.
“Afternoon, your lordships,” it said. “Customs inspection.”
“I don’t think we have any,” babbled the Bursar happily.
“I mean, we Doodle” in a crowded bar in Atlanta.
Even these people would consider it tactless to mention the word “billygoat” to a troll.
The troll’s expression changed very slowly, like a glacier eroding half a mountain. Ponder tried to get under the seat.
“So we’ll just trit-trot along, shall we?” said the Bursar, his voice by now slightly muffled.
“He doesn’t mean it,” said the Archchancellor quickly.
“It’s the dried frog talking.”used to have a tradition of rolling boiled eggsdownhill on Soul Cake Tuesday, but—““I means,” said the troll, “do you have any beer, spirits, wines, liquors, hallucinogenic herbage, or books of a lewd or licentious nature?”Ridcully pulled the Bursar back from the window.“No,” he said.“No?”“No.”“Sure?”“Yes.”“Would you like some?”“We haven’t even got,” said the Bursar, despite Ridcully’s efforts to sit on his head, “any billygoats.”There are some people that would whistle “Yankee
Monday, April 20, 2009
Leonardo da Vinci Leda 1508
Leonardo da Vinci Leda 1508Thomas Kinkade The Light of PeaceThomas Kinkade The Edge of Wilderness
had been in the room with her Granny Weatherwax would have thrown open the door boldly, but she was by herself. She picked up the poker very carefully, moved surprisingly soundlessly to the door given the nature of her boots, and listened intently.
There was something in the garden.
It wasn’t much of a you came from. And you can damn well get back there.”
The thing made a feint at her, but the poker swung toward it.
“Can’t stand the iron, eh? Well, just you trot back to your mistress and tell her that we know all about iron in Lancre. And I knows about her. She’s to keep away, under-stand? This is my place!”
Then it was moonlight. Now it was day.
There was quite a crowd in what passed for Lancre’s
71garden. There were the Herbs, and the soft fruit bushes, a bit of lawn and, of course, the bee-hives. And it was open to the woods. The local wildlife knew better than to invade a witch’s garden.Granny opened the door carefully.The moon was setting. Pale silver light turned the world into monochrome.There was a unicorn on the lawn. The stink of it hit her.Granny advanced, holding the poker in front of her. The unicorn backed away, and pawed at the ground.Granny saw the future plain. She already knew the when. Now she was beginning to apprehend the how.“So,” she said, under her breath, “I knows where
had been in the room with her Granny Weatherwax would have thrown open the door boldly, but she was by herself. She picked up the poker very carefully, moved surprisingly soundlessly to the door given the nature of her boots, and listened intently.
There was something in the garden.
It wasn’t much of a you came from. And you can damn well get back there.”
The thing made a feint at her, but the poker swung toward it.
“Can’t stand the iron, eh? Well, just you trot back to your mistress and tell her that we know all about iron in Lancre. And I knows about her. She’s to keep away, under-stand? This is my place!”
Then it was moonlight. Now it was day.
There was quite a crowd in what passed for Lancre’s
71garden. There were the Herbs, and the soft fruit bushes, a bit of lawn and, of course, the bee-hives. And it was open to the woods. The local wildlife knew better than to invade a witch’s garden.Granny opened the door carefully.The moon was setting. Pale silver light turned the world into monochrome.There was a unicorn on the lawn. The stink of it hit her.Granny advanced, holding the poker in front of her. The unicorn backed away, and pawed at the ground.Granny saw the future plain. She already knew the when. Now she was beginning to apprehend the how.“So,” she said, under her breath, “I knows where
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